


Parallel Lines

by akhikaru



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Angst, Multi, Parallels, Sad Ending, Unrequited Love, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 21:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14922980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akhikaru/pseuds/akhikaru
Summary: That night nothing could make him feel better. It was probably all about that invitation he got in the mail earlier.





	Parallel Lines

**Author's Note:**

> There's no Ohno in this fic, sorry!

Sakurai Sho loved food.

Ever since he was little, he had the habit of eating everything that was on his plate, no matter how full he was or how bland it tasted. He couldn't explain it. Food was… it was _everything_. It made him feel good, no matter what happened. It cheered him up.

Well, at least it _did_ in the old days.

"Meatballs," Sho sighed, sniffing the air with very little interest. He was standing on the veranda, trying to clear his mind. It was his favorite spot in the apartment since he moved in three years ago. He discovered it on his second day living there when he went out to take a break from unpacking and was welcomed by the delicious smell of grilled meat. His neighbor apparently loved cooking with the windows wide open—not that Sho complained. The guy talked to his kitchen appliances a lot. It was entertaining, somehow.

That day, however, Sho's neighbor's uncharacteristically silent cooking wasn't helping his mood at all. Neither did the sushi, gyoza, and other various things that he ordered earlier from his favorite restaurant. Sho didn't leave a scrap on his plate, yet he didn't feel the contentment that he usually had after a hearty meal.

It was probably all about that invitation he got in the mail earlier.

"Aiba Masaki and Sawajiri Erika invite you to their wedding," Sho reread the words out loud with a sigh. "Their wedding…"

He had heard about it before, of course, but it was still a shock when he checked his mailbox and found a shiny white envelope inside. Masaki and his fiancée hadn't managed to agree on a date for a long time, until now. Sho should have been glad for them. Masaki was one of his best friends, and Erika had always been nice to Sho despite knowing about that embarrassing episode from two years ago. It was actually a miracle that Sho was invited to the wedding.

Not many women would like to have among her wedding's guests a guy who was head over heels for her fiancé.

Sho's pathetic crush on Masaki wasn't a secret. Ever since Masaki was transferred to his department, his attitude towards work had changed. Masaki was… he was simply an angel. He was always so nice to everyone, even to people who weren't so nice to him, like Sho back when they met. His spontaneity and his ability to see the good even during the worst times had eventually caught Sho's attention. By spending time with Masaki, Sho learned how to enjoy himself at work, instead of being constantly frustrated. Eventually, they became close friends. Up until then, it was alright. The problem was when Sho started developing feelings for him.

How it happened, Sho still couldn't understand. He knew that Masaki liked women—the guy never shut up about his love for breasts. If Sho had learned something during his life, it was that falling for straight guys was never a good idea. It usually ended up in heartbreak, and Sho had had enough of that when he was younger. But, as the old saying goes, 'the heart wants what the heart wants'.

And what Sho's heart wanted was Aiba Masaki.

He hadn't intended to make his feelings known though. It was completely unplanned, a terrible accident that occurred during one of their habitual drinking sessions. Sho had had a few beers, and he told Masaki everything about the _huge_ crush he had on him. Masaki didn't say anything afterwards, but he looked so uncomfortable that Sho wanted to kick himself for it. The next day when Sho went to apologize, Masaki told him that even though he was flattered by Sho's confession, he actually wasn't into men. Also, that he was in a relationship with a wonderful woman he adored, and that he didn't want any misunderstandings to happen.

What did Sho do? Deny everything, of course. He told Masaki that he was so drunk that night that he didn't even know what he was saying. He laughed at his own words, saying that "it wasn't the first time he confessed his undying love for a friend while being dead drunk"—that was obviously a lie, but he deemed things would go better if Masaki thought him a fool who lost his control under alcohol influence. Then he told Masaki to forget about that embarrassing episode, and that he hoped he hadn't just ruined their friendship. He rushed to his office right after that, not wanting to hear what Masaki had to say about it.

Worst five minutes of Sho's life.

Being the angel that he was, Masaki continued talking to Sho as if nothing had happened. He and Erika even arranged a few double dates where they introduced him to some of Erika's friends, all because Sho had insisted he wasn't into men. Masaki believed him, of course. Erika, on the other hand, seemed to suspect about his true orientation. When Masaki brought up the episode about Sho's confession during a karaoke party, Erika's behavior towards Sho changed. She didn't comment on it, yet she was definitely more cautious when Sho was around. Not that Sho would do anything to affect her relationship, he was no homewrecker, but it was understandable.

"I should have kept my mouth shut. Why did I confess to him?" Sho sighed again. He shoved the envelope with the invitation in his pocket again and buried his face in his hands.

He wasn't sure if he would resist attending that wedding. Maybe he shouldn't go.

The doorbell rang right at that moment. "Coming!" Sho shouted when he heard it a second time. It was probably the guy from the bakery. He ordered a whole cheesecake.

He closed the door to the veranda and rushed to the front door, hoping that maybe dessert is the kind of food he needs at the moment.

If not, well… he'd just have it anyway.

 

Matsumoto Jun loved his bonsai.

It's not that he had liked plants all his life, no. He didn't pay them much attention when he was younger and considered that gardening wasn't fun at all. However, when he kept being rejected by both children and animals the entire time, he decided that he had had enough of creatures that were afraid of him. A plant wouldn't run away or cry for its mommy. Besides, tending to his bonsai always relaxed him.

Well, at least it _did_ in the old days.

"All done," he said with a little smile. He had just made the most incredible meatballs ever. Not that there would be anyone to share them with him, he always had dinner by himself, but the little satisfaction of a job well done made his mood slightly better. Only _slightly_ , since the real cause for it wouldn't vanish just because of an hour or two of cooking. After leaving his meatballs simmering in the sauce, he went out to the veranda. He kept his bonsai there on purpose to force himself to take a break from everything else from time to time. It usually worked, especially when his neighbor started blasting hip-hop music and singing. The guy had gotten way better at rapping in the last few months. It was entertaining, somehow.

That day, however, Jun's neighbor's off-key singing to a ballad song wasn't helping. Neither did the attempt at reshaping a particular branch of his bonsai that he didn't like much. Jun ended up chopping it off angrily and apologizing to the poor innocent tree afterwards.

It was probably all about that invitation he got in the mail earlier.

"Ninomiya Kazunari and Inoue Mao invite you to their wedding," Jun reread the words out loud with a sigh. "Their wedding…"

Jun hadn't heard a word about it before that day. To say it had been a shock when he found the white envelope inside his mailbox would be an understatement. Ninomiya and Inoue-san? Really? Those two had never seemed to be interested in each other, or at least that's the impression Jun got of them. And Jun was certain that he wouldn't be the only surprised one among the people invited, although he felt he ought to be the most shocked of them all.

Not many women invited to their wedding the man whom both she and her future husband had been hitting on.

The situation was quite amusing: both Mao and Nino—as everyone called Ninomiya at their workplace—had made it clear in front of everyone that they had the hots for Jun. They teased him all the time and flirted with him as many times as possible during the day. It had become some sort of running joke among their coworkers; even the boss seemed amused every time those two started their usual 'routine'. Jun tried to be indifferent, knowing that he shouldn't take them very seriously, but he wasn't made of stone. Eventually, he started feeling attracted towards Nino. It could have been worse: had Mao been a man, or had Jun had any interest in women, the situation would have been more awkward than it already was.

How it happened, Jun couldn't understand. He _knew_ that Ninomiya wasn't serious about liking him—the guy would flirt with anyone, seriously. If Jun had learned something during his life, it was that falling for someone who behaved like that was never a good idea. It usually ended up in heartbreak, and Jun had had enough of that when he was younger. But, as the old saying goes, 'the heart wants what the heart wants'.

And what Jun's heart wanted was Nino.

He hadn't said anything, fearing the reaction the people around him would have if they found out. He was tempted to speak up on more than one occasion though, especially whenever Nino was in one of his flirty moods. The way Nino talked to him always caused his heart to skip a beat. So far, Jun hadn't blushed in public, but whenever he was alone at home, he'd remember Nino's words and the heat would inevitably rush to his cheeks. He giggled like a schoolgirl in love and gushed over it to his bonsai, his only confidant in hard times. It was pathetic, he knew, but what else could he do? Confess?

There was one day in which he almost messed up. Nino was sitting next to him during lunch. He was wearing that mustard yellow t-shirt that Jun didn't like at all—except for the fact that the v-neck was so deep that he could get a glimpse of Nino's collarbones. Jun hadn't intended to ogle at him, but it happened. He loved Nino's profile so much. Eventually, Nino noticed it—of course he did—and started teasing Jun about it.

Worst five minutes of Jun's life.

Looking back, Jun noticed that both Nino and Mao had recently stopped messing with him as much as they did in the beginning. Some days they didn't even talk to Jun at all, aside from their usual greetings. It was a relief not to have everyone making jokes about him all day long, but he missed them, especially Nino. Now he knew why they hadn't been a pain in the ass as usual.

"I should have confessed when I had the chance back then. Why didn't I do it?" Jun sighed again. He shoved the envelope with the invitation in his pocket again and buried his face in his hands.

He wasn't sure if he would resist attending that wedding. Maybe he shouldn't go.

The alarm he had in his kitchen to tell him when the meatballs were done rang right at that moment. "Ah, the food!" Jun rushed back inside, hoping it wouldn't be too late.

After dining, he went back to the veranda to try gardening some more. His neighbor had started blasting the usual hip-hop songs about sex and partying, so maybe that'd get him in the mood.

If not, well… he'd just do it anyway.

 

The day of the wedding arrived faster than he had wanted it to arrive. He woke up almost too late and got ready in record time. "I look like shit," he sighed when he looked at his own reflection in the mirror. Hopefully, nobody would notice the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't been sleeping well lately.

When he came out of his apartment, another guy in a suit also came out from the apartment right next to his. They bowed to each other out of habit and rushed to the elevator without exchanging any words. It seemed they both were headed to the building's basement. Their cars were parked right next to each other. Coincidentally, it seemed they had the same model, only that in different colors. He hadn't noticed it before.

As the two of them drove away, he noticed that they seemed to be heading in the same direction. Actually, they stopped at the same hotel! That was an amazing coincidence. Hadn't he been so distraught about the wedding thing, maybe he would have talked to that guy, to the neighbor who seemed to have so much in common with him.

Once they were in the lobby, he was told to go in a direction while his neighbor was instructed to go on the exact opposite one. Well, it seemed they wouldn't cross paths again today then.

He kept thinking of it for a while until the wedding march started and he was brought back to reality.

On the aisle, standing nervously, was the man he loved, dressed up in a suit that fit him just perfectly. Yes, the groom looked more handsome than ever if that was even possible. When the bride appeared, the groom smiled proudly, staring right at her with his eyes full of happy tears. She looked gorgeous, almost ethereal.

When the two of them were standing side by side, he understood it: they were meant to be. Not only because they looked well together—that they definitely did—but also because he could _feel_ it. They were in love, and it was beautiful.

He was one of the people crying when they said their vows. He wiped his tears discreetly, plastering a smile on his face even though his heart felt like it had just been fatally wounded. He clapped energetically when they walked out, this time as husband and wife.

He wanted to hate that moment, he truly did!

He couldn't.

"I wish you all the best," he told them when he was finally able to greet them. They thanked him with wide smiles on their faces and then left. It was time for their first dance together.

Everyone was taking pictures and chatting excitedly. He normally would have been among those people, but he simply couldn't do it. He stayed until the evening, of course, making small talk and trying not to get drunk lest he'd do something stupid.

"Won't you have anything to eat? The food is delicious!" a cheerful bridesmaid told him. She had been constantly by his side since the ceremony ended, saying that she saw him cry and was immediately attracted to his _sensitiveness_. If only she knew the reason why he cried, she wouldn't waste her time with someone like him.

"I'm not very hungry," he said.

"Do you want to dance, then?" the bridesmaid insisted.

Not wanting to be rude, he danced with her a couple of songs. Then she found another guy to prey on, giving him the chance he had been expecting to escape from the reception hall. He ran out of the place without saying goodbye—not that anyone would miss him, really—and went straight to the parking lot.

Hot tears ran down his cheeks when he was finally in the privacy of his own car. He cursed himself for thinking this had been a good idea, waited for a couple of minutes while he calmed down, and then drove away at full speed. He almost didn't see the car that was trying to get out at the same time as his. It was a relief that they didn't crash.

He parked in a haste and went straight to the elevator. Someone else was inside with him, but he didn't determine them. He wasn't in the right mood to care about being polite. The other person didn't say anything either anyway.

When the elevator stopped at his floor, he got out. He heard footsteps right beside him, so he started walking faster. He couldn't let anyone see him like this, especially not his neighbors. What if they remembered his face come morning and they met in the hallway? What if they asked about his pathetic life? What would he say? How would they react? Would they care at all?

No, he couldn't let it happen.

He slammed the door, letting out a sigh of relief when he heard another door being closed.

 

The two of them leaned then against the wall that divided their apartments. They covered their mouths in an attempt to muffle their sobs. They slid down until they were on the floor, crying out loud.

"I'm going to die alone," they whispered to themselves, resigning to the idea of never finding someone to love.

Deep inside, they both wished that someday they'd find someone who could—if not love them—at least understand them.

But where?


End file.
